Cigars and Skeletons
by LoudCloud
Summary: While trying to stop Flowey from his shenanigans, you find yourself being teleported through several different realities with the furious plant pot in tow. On one specific encounter, however, you come across far less friendly versions of your friends... ONE-SHOT, a small exploration of Mafia/gangster/Flowerpot AU (First Person Frisk)


_So this is a combination of the Flower Pot AU (where Flowey becomes an unwilling addition to the family above ground) and a mixture of two other AUS that you'll easily recognize below. I don't know who originally came up with them. All rights to to them, I suppose, forgive me if this is bad - its just an exploration fic. I may do more with Mafia Undertale, but not in the same plotline as this._

 _Please enjoy :)_

* * *

The shirt cuffs were a little too big for you. Flowey sighed that they'd have to do. Besides, too-long suit sleeves were the least of your problems at this given moment in time. You were perched upon a snowy mound, eerily similar yet not quite identical to the one from _your_ universe. It was hard to keep track of them all by now.

How you'd both gotten here was a blur. Flowey the Flower, having grown bored with living as the family's homicidal pet plant, had dragged himself (by the literal skin of his teeth) into San's secret room. If you ever got home, and you were determined that you would – you'd be asking Sans outright about that machine under the sheet.

He'd left it there even after you'd all moved to the surface. What possessed Flowey to go for it now, you didn't know. But here you were, jumping through not only alternate timelines, but alternate realities. Luckily the switch would occur before anything much happened – he'd saw a glimpse of a figure in the woods at one point in the last switch, and you'd felt the attack coming from miles away.

But this time it was different. You'd been in this version of Snowdin – was if even called that? – for longer than five minutes. Flowey clicked his teeth.

"Well, I guess you better get your stupid self over to some kind of shelter, then, before this pot freezes over."

You walked with him, in cold, stony silence. But you didn't find a nice little town with welcoming faces. You'd reached the end of the woods and found a city. The grubby, scary, shadowy kind you'd seen in old black and white movies long, long back, before you first fell. _When you'd been with..._

You peered around. Semi-familiar faces wandering past you, dressed in old fashioned clothing that also looked straight out of one of those old gangster movies. They were giving you both funny looks; first your out-of-place clothing and then the hissing plant in your grasp.

You waggled a finger at Flowey, hushing him. He tried to bite your finger.

You passed through an alley. Flowey gestured with his entire body to a clothing line strung between the two tall tenements.

"Steal those! People are looking at your stupid jumper!"

You did, against better judgement. Now you were rolling up the sleeves, trying to look more presentable. Sans wouldn't made a very lame pun at this moment, if he was here. The tailcoat fell past your shins and you looked laughable...

"Are you sniffling again? I told you to stop it!" Flowey jeered nearby, rolling his eyes. "If you just let me be none of this would've happened!"

You _were_ sniffling. You felt tiny, tinier than you'd ever felt. You raised a pudgy arm to rub at your nose when a familiar scent wafted by.

You gestured happily down at Flowey. He glanced skyward again.

"Pfft. Yeah, so what, smells like grease, what're you –" You plucked him up and wordlessly and trotted down the street. A sign hung outside one of the doors; a deep glow seeping out from around the hinges. Flowey's face blanched.

"Wait, Frisk, Nonononono –"

You opened the door to Grillby's.

It _was_ Grillby's. But then it wasn't. The layout of the little restaurant was entirely different – it looked like a bar; far wider, far more spacious. Little clusters of light dotted the premise here, and there but for the most part it was dark. Whatever relief or glee you felt drained faster than a broken dam. The monsters here were bigger, sharper, scarier. They looked more human somehow, if that was possible; their clothes, the shapes of their bodies. You saw rough hands, cigars, drinks – the stench of alcohol _all too familiar and bad –_

Flowey was waving wildly up at you (that is his entire body was) as a small whine escaped your throat. "Frisk! Move it!"

The door slid shut behind you with a subtle click. No one had seen you come in. The warmth, however unpleasant and scary, was better than the cold outside.

"Frisk." Flowey snarled in the quietest fury he could, "Did you not see that movie? We'll be in the river with cinderblocks tied to our feet if you don't –"

You walked forward, staring around with morbid curiosity. None of the monsters seem to notice you with you. They're all keeping to themselves.

It was dark in here and it smelled of ash.

Grillby's counter was higher, too, than it was back in Snowdin. The chair was tall as you were. "..."

Flowey exhaled in exasperation.

The door swung open with an audible clunk. Flowey didn't need you tell you; you were ducking behind the conveniently sized stool in an instant. Your hands, cold and red, trembled around the flower pot.

No one ignored the newcomer this time. In fact, the monsters stationed at the little rounds tables near the bar ceased all activity to look – several of them with anxious expressions. You felt your eyes narrow and you peered around the stool nonchalantly. Flowey poked his head over it.

Sans was standing in the doorway.

For an instant your heart leaped. Then it dropped. This was not your Sans. This Sans was bigger, clad in a suit more fitting than the one you'd stolen. Pinstripe lines adorned the black fabric; red cuffs poking out by his sleeves. A hat lay over his round skull, tipped over one eye. A cigar lay between his smiling teeth. A lazy, easy expression laced his features...but you knew better. There's something brewing in that face that made everyone in this building freeze up.

Standing behind him is Papyrus. If you hadn't known it was him you would have been intimidated, too. His eyes are bright, yet dimmer than usual. He was wearing an outfit similar to Sans; though he lacked a jacket. He was wearing a single shirt only; a loose tie hanging by his hip.

He looked disgruntled. He never did like Grillby's.

Sans sauntered in, taking a long drag on his cigar, and pointedly ignoring all of the uneasy stares the other patrons were shooting him. He hopped onto a stool, dangerously close to you, and grinned up at Grilby with that lazy smile.

"Hey, bud, the usual."

Grilby moved silently. You can't see him but you can see the light in the room shift – fire being and all. You were crouched under the stool now, just a few seats away from Sans, clutching Flowey's pot to your chest. You were tiny. Invisible. It was a familiar sensation.

 _San sation._

A small smile made its way onto your blank face. Flowey glared up at you with more venom than a dozen snakes. "You idiot! Clearly he's bad news here, not like he ever stopped BEING bad news. What did I tell you? Stay away from him! Goes double here."

Papyrus looked even less comfortable than you two did. He remained on his feet, standing near the pool table. The other patrons were still staring.

Sans plucked his cigar out of his mouth, dabbed some ash into a tray...and looked back.

You'd never seen a whole room of people glance away so fast.

"heh. not too chummy today, folks?"

Another drag on his cigar. A drink appeared in front of him. He nodded once to Grilby and gestured over to Papyrus. "Take a seat bro."

"I SHAN'T, BROTHER." The tall skeleton's voice sounded louder than ever in this enclosed space. "OUR CLIENT WILL BE HERE SHORTLY. WE MUST LOOK PROFESSIONAL! ASGORE –"

"we are." Sans says, leaning on a hand. His white pupils flickered around the room in a lacklustre fashion. Flowey squished himself down against the soil in his pot to try and hide better. "don't worry 'bout it."

 _CLICK._

It happened so quickly.

First a monster, whose face you did not know, was on his feet and pointing a gun at the back of Sans' head. Next a loud, ear-splitting bang was tore through the air and assaulted your senses. You slammed your hands over your ears and Flowey's stem contorted in alarm. "Gah!"

 _THUD.  
_  
The monster was on the floor, face down. Right in front of you. Something was pooling from beneath his...head.

Your mouth opened in an agonised shape. "..." Flowey was trying to hush you but he needn't; the scream on your lips wasn't coming out.

Sans's chin was still leant upon his palm, but that was the only thing unchanged. A single arm was raised and a blue aura was drifting quietly from his fingertips like smoke. One eye socket was a glaring black...the other lit up by a foggy blue orb.

You've seen that look before. You wanted to forget it.

Y O U ' ...

"sorry 'bout that, folks. " Sans said leisurely. Some people in his vicinity were shuffling away from him now. Others didn't seem so bothered. Papyrus didn't look nearly as horrified as he should have. In fact, he was simply irked that his brother had made such a mess.

"LOOK AT WHAT YOU'VE DONE. WHAT KIND OF IMPRESSION WILL THIS MAKE ON OUR CLIENT?"

If Sans was going to answer, he didn't get the chance.

Papyrus had seen you. Your breath caught in your throat and he blinked. You blinked. He knelt down and peered at your scrunched up body under the stool. "...SANS..."

"mmm?"

"IS THIS OUR CLIENT? YOU HAVE NOT MADE A GOOD IMPRESSION! THEY ARE DISGUSTED WITH THE MESS YOU HAVE MADE!"

You couldn't help the squeak that broke through your lips, now all eyes were on you. Flowey bared his teeth at Papyrus like a hound. You'd never felt scared of Papyrus before. Never, not really...maybe a little, back in the fog, but you never thought you'd feel it again.

The way he's just kneeling by the body...

Sans leaned back on his stool and when his eye fell on you, his lazy expression stiffened instantly. You were on your feet in an instant up, holding tight to the pot, stumbling ever-so slightly towards the door.

"..."

"...that isn't our client, pap." He said slowly, grin set firmly in place. Papyrus stood up to his full height.

"WHAT? THEN –"

You and Sans stared at each other for the longest time. Did he know? Was there a chance he was aware of who you where, how you got here?

No. There wasn't a shred of recognition in his eyes. He's even more unreadable than he usually is.

Sans slid off his stool and strode over to you. Your legs decided to bolt themselves to the floor at that exact moment. Your grip on the pot tightened until it hurt. Sans is bigger here. Scarier. You smelt the smoke before he's even in front of you.

You coughed.

He knelt down to eye level.

Black eye sockets.

"hey there. don't you know how you greet a new pal?"

You're practically hugging Flowey to your chin now. "Mmmf."

"couldn't hear ya." His grin is brighter somehow. You wondered if he was playing around. Being friendly like usual. Part of you hoped for it.

The other part wanted to flee.

"hey kiddo, it's rude not to answer." Sans tilted his head. His eye sockets narrowed.

Time to go.

You stepped back.

A soft click resonated by your ear. He's still smiling, friendly and warm but terrifying and horrible, _there' was a gun sitting gently against the side of your head._

"I'LL show you friendliness." Flowey chimed. Oh no. Please don't. You begged silently with your eyes but he's not looking at you. Sans' grin remains in place but it faltered a little.

"huh?"

A circle of white dots blasted out of oblivion and hovered all around the bar. Flowey practically shrieked his next words. "Friendliness pellets!"

You ran. Chaos erupted behind you as his white bullets hit everything it could find; lights, drinks, ankles, shins. Sans had to step away and defend himself, he hadn't been expecting demonic flowers however powerful that eye of his was. Papyrus stared after you as you sprinted to the door.

"HUH. THAT LITTLE MONSTER HATES MESS MORE THAN I DO. FAREWELL, LITTLE THING! WE SHALL FIND YOU SHORTLY! THEN...I'M NOT SURE WHAT COMES NEXT..."

You gladly plunged into the cold, tail coat flapping behind you and Flowey cackling to himself in all his demonic glory.

He calmed down by the time you got back to the forest.

"Next time I say not to do something...don't do it." He said, slowly, like he's speaking to someone especially young or stupid. You shrugged.

"Well, that was wacked. Can't get any worse, though." Flowey lamented.

You teleported into another reality a second later.

...You saw Sans again, sleeping at his station. Mostly the same. Only his fashion choice had changed a great deal.

Flowey snapped.

"Is that a gold tooth?! URGH! _KILL ME!"_


End file.
